


liam

by cirque



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cirque/pseuds/cirque
Summary: She did not want that for her son, but it was his heritage all the same.
Relationships: Doting Human Parent & Half-Monster Child
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11
Collections: Original Characters & Original Works Flash Exchange May 2020





	liam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HostisHumaniGeneris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/gifts).



She hadn’t meant to fuck a werewolf, but then she hadn’t meant to do a lot of things. He’d been a little grabby, but Anna liked that, a bit too enthusiastic with his teeth, but he’d been careful not to break the skin and she came out the other side no worse for wear. She hadn’t bothered to call him, which was her usual way. She didn’t tell him about the baby, either, though she couldn’t say why.

Liam always asked about his father, always wanted more than she was able to give. A decade down the line and she told him, falteringly, the sorry truth, to her long and lanky teenager.

“Your father was a werewolf.  _ Is _ a werewolf.”

“I…” His round face blushed as his brain ran a mile a minute. He had the bluest eyes, a holdover from his dreamy childhood, and they looked panicked now, a dozen emotions vying for control. “A werewolf?” He said it with horror, which she supposed was normal. Who wasn’t horrified, upon finding out they were half-monster?

“Don’t hate me…” she said, in a tiny voice. What else could she expect?

“But I don’t… transform,” Liam knitted his brows together.

“You’re half-human,” she pointed out.

He nodded, slowly, like he was digesting the whole thing. “I always feel sick at full moon. Dizzy, kind of.”

“Yeah?”

“D’you think it’s because of my dad?”

“Maybe.” She went to take his hand, but he flinched away. That was fair, she thought, that was understandable. “Do you want to get in touch with him?”

He was only a boy, just a little scrap of a thing, still learning his way in the world. He had no clue, really, about how big the decision was, how much was tentatively resting on his answer. Anna wondered if she was ready to invite his father back into their life, was unsure, truly, if he was still alive. Werewolves died young, she knew, and led frantic frightful lives, so it was entirely possible that she might never find him. They were an underclass, really; crime was not uncommon, in and out of jail with the changing seasons. She did not want that for her son, her quiet child who loved butterflies and the soft touch of grass against bare feet, but it was his heritage all the same. She had no right to keep it from him; had no right to have kept it a secret thus far.

“Maybe,” he was noncommittal, and she was ashamed to recognize that she felt happy at that. “I’m still me?” he frowned.

“Yes,” and he let her take his hand now. He was shaking. “You’re still my boy. I will always love you.” That, at least, was certain. 


End file.
